The Tongariro national park is a large mountainous region about 6hrs south of Auckland (as the bus drives) and contains what is advertised as the best one day walk in New Zealand, if not one of the best in the world. For the majority of the year the top of it is covered in snow, as it goes over the saddle between two fairly famous mountains. Mountain one is the Tongariro mountain, of which the whole park is named after. Mountain two is mount Ngauruhoe which is best known for being the location filming area for mount doom in Lord of the rings! It is an active volcano and one does not simply walk up to it, you have to catch an earlier bus and then scramble to the top.
I have wanted to do it for a while! Pretty much since the start of summer when the best walking season started, and then as the days ticked by it got more urgent because I really wanted to do it before the snow came back. I managed to talk some coworkers into it and we were going to go after I got back from the South Island, but since I was away nothing got organised and it got pushed back again to… *drumroll* the 4th March! The big risk with these dates was that we only had 3 days off because of the way the rosters worked out, so since it was a day’s travel to the national park on each side that gave us one day in which to attempt the hike. If the weather is terrible, the buses don’t run. If the weather is kind of crappy, the walk is wet and unpleasant.
So we crossed our fingers, booked a hostel and went for it!
Ash and smoke bleed into the clouds, and rain beats down on Regina Mills’ windshield. An obsidian plume mars the horizon behind her, casting an oppressive shadow upon the narrow, wet one-laned road as she speeds around a corner, her elbow banging into the driver’s side door as she sharply swerves around the curve.
“Regina, slow down!” Emma Swan shouts, bracing one hand on the dash and the other against a splintered passenger side window, glass fogging around her fingers and palm. “We’re not gonna make it if we crash before we get there!”
But Regina can’t slow down, can’t stop, can’t pause for a minute to think beyond Almost there almost there almost there! and the frantic ba-bump ba-bump ba-bump of her heart beating in her chest.
Sweat beads at her temples, tracks through ash, grime, and a smear of blood at her hairline. She’s shaking, muscles spasming painfully, harshly inhaling shuddering breath after breath.
Calm down, Regina. Just breathe, she thinks, trying to convince herself that everything is going to be alright.
But there’s a drowning dread brewing in her belly, a gnawing terror clawing at her heart as her eyes dart up to the rear view mirror again and again – the sky alight in an unforgiving red behind them as rubber hitting the road puts more distance between them and the horrors of a bloodbath they weren’t prepared for at the Swan House.
God, all those people. The screaming. The flames.
Robin is missing.
Kathryn is dead.
And the world is on fire.
Emma yells again as Regina jerks the wheel to swerve and miss broken crates and an overturned delivery truck on the righthand side of the road. There’s debris littered everywhere – fallen trees, burning countryside, gaping wounds in the earth the size of craters, big billows of smoke reaching up into the air like skeletal tendrils.
She can barely hear Emma, barely lets her friend’s sharp curses divert her attention. She wonders if she’ll be too late, wonders if Henry and Roland are alright.
She needs to get back, needs to get home, needs to get to her boys.
She’s sure they’re alright, prays they are, hopes they are. For what more can she do with five more miles separating her boys from the safety of her arms and the frantic combing of her eyes over their limbs and faces to make sure they’re untouched by the inferno that came from the sky. She thinks of Henry’s apple cheeks and sweet smile. Thinks of Roland’s curly hair and delicious dimples. Dimples he got from his father. Oh God, Robin. She thinks of Robin, of all their letters and tear-stained parchment, and a million unanswered questions filling the pit of her belly with dread.
Her knuckles turn white as she tightens her grip on the steering wheel and bites down on her lower lip. She needs to get home. Now.
Slamming her foot on the accelerator, the tires grip to the road and yank them forward with a lurch. Rubber meeting ground in a godawful screech.
How did everything turn upside down so quickly? How did it all go to shit? That last question makes her think of Robin again. He’s rubbed off on her, and that makes her smile, makes her eyes water, and goddammit, she does not have time for this. This is why you don’t fall in love during wartime, Regina, she thinks. This is why you focus on duty, why you do your part and keep your heart out of play. But she didn’t keep her heart out of play; it cracked open, slowly at first, and then all at once, letting warmth and comfort and love flood in. Robin and Roland had done that, with their charm and their goofy grins, her love for them had snuck up on her, and she’d been flabbergasted at how much she and Henry had soon wanted the Locksley men in their lives. Their love had laid her heart bare in a way that it hadn’t been in years (not since Daniel, not since before she’d been brokered into a marriage to Leopold, and not since she’d first held her darling Henry to her chest. He’d been lost just like her, an orphan during wartime, and she may not have brought him into this world with blood and pain, but she’d loved him instantly with a force so fierce she hadn’t known where it had come from.
“Regina!” Emma exclaims and grips tightly to her arm to get her attention, pulling her out of the past and into the very chaotic present. “I don’t want to die in this stupid piece of metal! Not after what we just went through! Not after Kathryn…”
Regina whips her head around, glaring at Emma, fighting off tears threatening to fall.
Robin is missing.
Kathryn is dead.
The world is one fire.
And she has to get home to the boys.
It’s a mantra she keeps repeating in her head. Something to ground her. Truths she can’t ignore.
It keeps her going, keeps her from breaking down.
Regina’s eyes are back on the road in front of her, but she doesn’t miss the reassurance in Emma’s voice when she speaks next.
“I know, and you know, they’re safe–” the boys, she’s talking about the boys “–Maggie and Marcus wouldn’t let anything happen to Roland. And they love you and Henry, as if you were their own blood. They’ll protect them.” Emma lets go of Regina’s hand as they turn onto the long driveway up to the Locksley farm. Emma blows out a breath, and then gasps, turning around swiftly in her seat and craning her neck to peer out the cab of the truck and up into the clouds.
Regina follows her gaze out her driver’s side mirror.
Planes. An entire fleet, flying overhead toward the city center.
Oh God. Changing autumn leaves pass by in a blur as Regina barrels up the driveway, pebbles spinning out from beneath the truck’s tires as they grapple against gravel for traction.
Her fingers grip more tightly to the steering wheel and she presses down on the pedal again, hard. Takes the next turn at an alarming speed, and on any other day, she’d be more cautious. She’s never driven like this before, hasn’t really driven in years, would never drive like this in general, but there’s still a faint metallic taste in her mouth. There’s still the subtle, unwelcomed burn of ash in her lungs. And Kathryn’s broken body is still clearly painted in her mind.
The lower pasture up ahead blurs, goes watery, and then tears spill beyond her lashes like a flood breaking through a dam. “Almost there,” Regina urgently speaks, voice caught in her throat.
“Come on, come on.” She can see Emma staring at her through the corner of her eye.
They pass over hills and into the valley paralleling the lake, getting closer and closer to the homestead as her heart violently beats faster and faster in her chest. Ba-bump ba-bump ba-bump. The sound of it bleeding into her eardrums, drowning out all other sounds, snuffing out the voice in her head telling her she’s not going to make it, shouting that things will never be the same again as more planes fly overhead.
This is it, she thinks. This is how the world ends.
The truck skids to a halt on the graveled drive in front of Maggie and Marcus Locksley’s country home. And then Regina’s pushing open the door, slamming it shut behind her–the key still in the ignition. She doesn’t take the time to wait for Emma before hiking up her skirt and bounding up the front steps of the house, practically throwing open the front screen door; it violently swings on its hinges, bangs against the wall with a godawful snap. But she doesn’t care that that’s probably left a doorknob dent in the drywall. Who the fuck cares about something like that when London has just been bombed and the city is burning?
She’s out of breath when she shouts, “Henry!” careening down the entryway hallway. “Henry! Roland! Maggie! Marcus!”
She sees Maggie first. “Christ, Regina! You’re covered in blood!”
And she is, but she doesn’t have time to explain, hears the echo of Kathryn’s scream in her head as the ceiling had collapsed on them, remembers the heat of the inferno singing the hair on her arms, and her colleague’s blood on her hands and apron as she and Emma had tried to carry Kathryn out of the rubble of the Swan House. But she doesn’t say any of that, instead blinks back tears burning at the corners of her eyes and says, “It’s not mine!” and begs, “Where are the boys?”
Maggie pulls her into a quick squeeze and runs her palms down Regina’s arms, checking her over for injuries. A mother through and through. “Marcus has the boys. They’re grabbing the dog and then we’re going to the cellar. Bags are already together.”
Regina nods frantically, and then Emma’s behind her, the screen door slamming into its frame again. “We have to go!” she shouts. “Where are the kids?”
“They’re coming,” Maggie replies, handing Regina and Emma potato sacks filled to the brim with clothing, canteens filled with fresh well water, produce, and basic medical supplies. Regina’s eyes widen as she stares at the contents. There are black market items in these bags. Things they’ve been out of for months, things she thought Maggie had gotten rid of, some things that she in fact helped the older woman get rid of. And yet here they are.
“Maggie…” she says, “where did you…”
“Does it matter?”
No, she supposes it doesn’t, and they’ll be happy for Maggie’s hoarding of illegal items when they’re down in the bunker.
“Okay, we have to go, seriously,” Emma says again. “There’s gonna be a second wave any minute! This isn’t a drill!”
“Where are the boys?” Regina shouts again, nerves unraveling at the seams.
“We’re here!” Marcus Locksley calls. Roland is propped up above his hip, arms tightly wrapped around his grandpa’s neck, and then Henry is shouting, running past the two of them and colliding against Regina’s body.
"Mom!” He cries as she drops to her knees and clutches him to her, her fingers threading into his hair as she breathes his name in a sigh of relief. Her baby is safe; he’s safe. He’s in her arms, and she’s breathing him in, and kissing his cheeks, and drying tears from his eyes, and he’s safe.
It takes them all of five minutes after that to make it across the field to the bunker, and as they lock the shelter door behind them and start running down the stairs, the next wave begins.
Dust unsettles, the walls vibrate, Roland buries his face into his grandpa’s chest and whimpers.
“Mom, I’m scared,” Henry cries into Regina’s shoulder as they huddle together in the far corner of the cellar.
She hugs him a little tighter, presses her lips to the crown of his head and whispers, “I know, honey. Me too.”
“Regina?” Marcus sets Roland down and the five year old runs over to her.
“Yes, sweetheart?” she says, folding him into her side and giving him and Henry a squeeze. She ushers them to the cot near the shelf with all the canned peaches and beans, and urges them to sit down.
Roland wipes his runny nose on his sleeve and sniffles. “Is my papa gonna be okay?”
“Oh sweetheart, it’ll be okay,” she says, brushing his curls out of his face and situating herself onto the cot so both of the boys can curl into her sides. She combs her fingers through their hair, and whispers reassuringly, “He’s safe; your papa’s safe.” And then she says, “We’re safe. You’re safe, he’s safe, we’re safe.”
She repeats those words over and over.
And then it begins again.
The walls shake.
Roland covers his ears, and Henry buries his face in his mother’s side.
“We’re going to be alright,” Regina whispers, pressing a kiss to Henry’s brow and combing her fingers through Roland’s curls again.
She wraps her arms more tightly around them both and prays to God she’s right.
An imagine where all the elgang members are jumping down a ledge so they can continue there journey. Then it comes chungs turn n he falls making a big crater n casually walks out of it?( prolly first time n wanna know how surprised everyone is)
“C-chung! Are you okay?”
“What happened? Did he fall? Chung, speak to us!”
The babble of concerned voices arises from the Elgang as dust rises from the spot where Chung landed, a deep crater in the earth now carved out. Then, from the cloud of dust, Chung walks calmly out. His white armor is barely touched by dirt.
“It’s okay, guys,” he laughs. “The Destroyer is just heavy. That’s all.”
He’s met with surprised stares, shocked stares, silence, and one slap from a certain Eve, who didn’t want to admit she was worried.
Hiveswap, Cherubs, Fantrolls, First Guardians, Limebloods: How Does This Concern Me?
New year, new theory! With Hiveswap hot on our heels it’s fitting that we kick 2017 off with a bang, right? Gotta get my bets in before the races start! You know what they say right? Go big or go home.
So let’s make the first theory of the year a Hiveswap plot forecast!
Let’s talk about how the fantroll we saw for 2 panels might actually tell us how Doc Scratch and cherubs factor into the plot of the game.
This is definitely a lot more interesting than the Handmaid.
Longish post warning. We’ve got some potential to discuss.
Here is what I know:
You drink your coffee black and we are afraid of each other.
Once you kissed my neck in front of your friends
and it made me very shy.
Once you kissed my stomach and I started crying.
I see the tender way you touch things and want to kiss your nose
but I keep my mouth to myself.
Your collarbones are craters big enough to fit my fist into.
You are the most beautiful thing I’ve seen in months.
I was not good to the last person I loved so I punished my heart
(I let it break and bleed out then roughly sewed it back together)
It is hard to write poems when I only know how to fuck you.
I am always trying. I am thinking of Somedays. I am saying goodbye.
You asked why I never write anything honest so I am writing you this.
I always dreamed to write a big yuunoa proof post. So
here you go. Some things you hear many times, some things can be new. I will talk only about manga and novels cause anime and games are still for me nice (like the ring finger) but additional bonuses. And
please forgive me my grammar, I know some sentence sound very funny. :”)
Exploring the interaction between night sky and landscapes across the western United States, including: Tumalo Falls, Three Sisters Wilderness, Mount Shasta, Big Bend National Park, Mono Lake, Aurora Borealis over Crater Lake National Park, Texas, Painted Hills, the High Sierra, and the Aurora Borealis over Sparks Lake.
I totally get people annoyed with plot holes in Sherlock...
But let’s lay off saying Authur Conan Doyle would do better.
I LOVE ACD’s books/stories. I grew up on them. But that dude had plot holes as big as craters, including forgetting John Watson’s name some of the time. And every once in a while he’d just basically write ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ instead of explaining how Holmes figured something out.
So stop making him the pinnacle of plot continuation. Ask Mrs. Turner Hudson how that is not true.
had a couple of people asking how I made my Mituna helmet, so why not make a
tutorial of it? Unfortunately I was really extremely bad at taking photo
progress during the whole work, and I’m not even joking! I have about two
pictures with most of the helmet already assembled, so I’m mostly going to
describe what I’ve done and point on pictures. Hopefully this will be of help
in some ways!
important feature on the helmet for me was;
since the talksprite’s helmet doesn’t look completely smooth and I prefer it
horns to create an illusion.
A see-through visor.
I’m a lazy bum I didn’t want to add too much extra build to the helmet, so I
had to find one with my wanted features already on it. After a lot of searching
I actually found that in the Reebok 3K Hockey Helmet, so now I had my base!
step since I didn’t want my helm to look bulky was to dismantle the whole damn
thing and remove the padding. The padding turned out to sit extremely hard and
the only way for me to remove it was to saw the bolts holding it in place off.
If you own a jeweler saw or another saw that can hold thin blades for metal
sawing, now is the time to bring it out together with the screwdriver, you’re
going to need it.
I finally had the helmet in two pieces without padding, I sanded a bit on the
holes where the screws and bolts once were in order to remove rough edges. Then
it was just to reassemble the thing again and choosing what size to have,
REMEMBER that there is going to be a new padding as well as a wig under there
so make sure to leave extra room!
up is to fill all the unwanted holes. I used a light weight air drying clay for
this and hoped that once dry it would stay where I put it, which it thankfully
did. Not sure if it helped, but I
smoothed the clay on both sides so the clay had more to hold on to. Let the
clay dry for the day and then sand it smooth.
you want the front part to come down like in the talksprite, you can add that
now or in the same step as stage 4. Same goes for the “holes” where your horns
are, which makes it time for you to decide if you want removable horns (with a
magnet or something else) or if you want permanent ones. Since I went with
magnets on mine, I just made four craters big enough for the magnets and horns.
sure what to call the ear-muff looking things on the side of the head, buuut I
made the base for them in foam. First I glued the foam pieces on, let them dry,
cut them into the right shape, cowered them in wood glue in order to fill the tiny
air holes in the foam, then finally two layers of clay; on to get the whole
base smooth and the second to get the correct shape.
all this was done I cowered the whole thing with diluted wood glue. Probably
not necessary, but I like to think that it’s easier to paint since the clay won’t
absorb the paint in the same way anymore.
since I was lazy again I simply spray painted a layer of white on the outside
and the visible parts on the inside. Recommended to use a wig stand. Let it dry
over the night and paint the thing yellow on the morning either by spray or
brush. If you want to use a finisher I recommend you to do that now instead of
later, since the visor will be in the way then.
your visor! For me this was the hardest part since no matter what I did, it didn’t
want to be round. I guess the cause of this was the overhang from the helmet; I
shouldn’t have curved it like I did. For the visor I used a sheet of
OH-film/overhead paper; it’s a type of clear plastic you can print out from a
printer and cut it in two. Then I took a clear blue plastic folder and a piece
of clear red cellophane since I couldn’t find a red folder. Measured how the
two colors should meet and cut thereafter, shouldn’t have settled on such a big
diagonal, but oh well. In order to have the pieces stay where I wanted them, I stapled
them together which worked surprisingly well. The order was; OH-paper –> red + blue folder –> OH-paper.
gluing the visor on place it’s best to work out how you want to put your new
padding. For this I used black craft foam pieces I had at home, which I glued on with
wood glue but a glue-gun will probably work better. When you have your padding
pieces figured out you can start gluing the inside together, starting with the
front and visor and work to the back.
you’re done! :D
If anything still feels unclear, don’t hesitate to ask :) And as a little end note, I was so damn close all the time to replace “to” and “too” with “two” while writing, so in other words 29 times not counting the last two ;)
#Fallout 4 spoilers #Brotherhood of Steel spoilers #MacCready spoilers
im so sick and pissed off at the brotherhood i will kill them 100 times over if given the chance
1. they disassembled rivet city for prydwen parts, likely also cannibalized communities like megaton for the same reason. all of these residents are probably displaced or worse, even with all of Maxson’s posturing about ~caring about the people~ 2. harkness is likely dead. probably one of the first synths the BoS was able to study, and also likely the reason they began investigating the institute/commonwealth. 3. whatever happened to bigtown- probably nothing good- its enough that maccready and lucy were not living there and took shelter in ghoul infested metro stations instead 4. Underworld has probably been wiped out because of anti-ghoul policies 5. Star Paladin Cross is dead or exiled, seeing as shes not mentioned on the prydwen and how her rank should have put her in line to be a successor to the lyons. 6. the capital wastes has likely just become one big fucking BoS crater and im sick
A sudden, very loud noise interrupted rather ordinary and peaceful day. It was something that could be described as cross between thunder and earthquake, coming from all directions so tracking the source would be very hard or plain impossible. Even stranger, buzzing sound follow and sky turned golden-yellow for a brief while before everything returned to normal.
Meanwhile, on the outskirts of town someone could notice a very particular view. A big crater that suddenly appeared out of nowhere which was source of these strange noises from before. Inside that was a rather big, metallic sphere made of bronze and iron, full of pipes and strange gears. It slowly opened with whizzing sound, revealing rather comfortable room inside with pilot-like cockpit and man sitting on chair. He was wearing rather old-fashioned clothes like top hat and black, very prim and proper looking coat.
Milten slowly left his vehicle before climbing out from crater and looking around, satisfied smile appearing on his face. He followed that strange trace of these weird, fascinating creatures and it should be location of their new attack. He really wanted to study them, so he backed away a little to his vehicle and waited patiently, hoping that his calculation would prove correct. Then, a roar and crashing noise of destroyed buildings combined with suddenly spike of his detectors made his smile even bigger. “They are here. Now, let’s watch this spectacle”. He muttered to himself before getting outside yet again, to get as close to these monsters as possible.